Loyalty
by Melon Fuhrer
Summary: Roy is suffering from depression after Brigadier General Hughes' death. Riza is there for him, just like she always has been. Royai. T for swearing, alcohol use, and non-explicit sexual themes. Now a twoshot; complete.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** All recognizable material belongs to Funimation/ Aniplex. I take no credit and make no profit from the use of these characters, events, or setting.

* * *

Rain hammered at the bulletproof glass windows of the office, a place that was beginning to replace home for Roy Mustang. He'd spent God knew how many nights there, staying long past when he should have gone home. Once his men had reported (they hadn't known that he knew they were spying on him, but he wasn't their superior for nothing) that he put off his paperwork for as long as possible, then at the end of the day rushed through it, claiming he hadn't had the time to do it. But ever since Hughes had been killed, Mustang had been burying himself in his work, trying to suppress his grief, his guilt. He'd spent countless hours turning over the possibilities in his head, examining the different ways he could have prevented his friend's death. He didn't really sleep anymore, because every time he closed his eyes, Maes' face was right there to torture him. His dreams consisted of Elysia getting shot, Maes' suggestions to find a wife becoming death threats, and basically every variation of every person he knew getting hacked down right in front of him. Even his old nightmares from Ishval were resurfacing.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't handle the sea of black and white that, in all honesty, did nothing to dull the pain. He needed to make it stop. Now.

Roy banged his chair against the wall as he shot out of his seat, grabbing his jacket off the coat rack, and slammed the door behind him. His military uniform shoes clicked against the tiles on the floor, echoing throughout the empty building as he made his way out.

The night air was chilly; there was no moon in the sky, and thin clouds covered the stars. The wind picked up, kicking up leaves and litter off the abandoned streets. Roy wasn't going home – he was headed to the one place in Central that would still be open at this hour: The Pub. Roy didn't actually know what its name was – he'd never had a reason to – but he knew where it was, and he had the money on him to get him drunk enough to forget for a night.

The bar was loud and obnoxious, and maybe if he was lucky he'd get knocked out in a fistfight. He sat down on the only available barstool, one that looked like it could break under the weight of someone half his size, breathing a small sigh of relief to find that it would hold him. After taking his order, the cross-eyed bartender shoved a mug of beer at him, and slowly the world began to fade.

* * *

"Come on, sir, I'm taking you home."

Riza Hawkeye had called Roy seven times with no answer before she decided to come looking for him. This was the first night she hadn't stayed at the office with him to keep an eye on him, and she was worried he would do something stupid… like go and get drunk. She'd never approved of drinking. She felt it was a cowardly way to handle strife, and it did nothing but make a person behave foolishly. Still, she couldn't deny the pang of pity she felt when she saw Roy slumped over the counter, unconscious.

She shook his shoulder again. "Colonel Mustang. Wake up. I'm here to take you home."

Riza felt rather than saw the bartender sizing her up. "I'd be running along if I was you, kid," he said to Roy. "If I had me a broad that fine…"

She'd never appreciated being treated like a piece of meat. "Watch your mouth," she warned the man, giving him a hard glare before grabbing Roy's arm and slinging it over her shoulder. She carried him to her car, half-pushing him into the passenger seat. He was still out like a light. Riza, with a sigh, shut the door and turned around, trudging back to the bar.

The bartender looked surprised to see her. "Well, well, well, look who's back," he commented with a greasy grin.

She couldn't help it. It was two in the morning, she was having to babysit her drunk boss, and she was a soldier who deserved some fucking respect. Riza pulled her gun from its holster faster than he could blink. "Shut up! Give me a glass of water. Now." She wouldn't actually shoot him, but he didn't need to know that.

The man's hands went up automatically. "Hey, I don't mean no troub-"

"I said shut up. Give me a goddamn glass of water before I make you."

Riza didn't have to count even to three before there was a glass in her hand. She slid her gun back in its place and marched out of the bar like its existence offended her. She threw the car door open and tossed the liquid on Roy, who, she realized a little too late, was already beginning to wake up. "Sorry, sir," she apologized quickly.

He didn't react beyond looking up at her with bleary eyes. Riza's eyes locked on his for a brief minute, then she strode around the car to the driver's side and hopped in, starting it and pulling out in one swift movement. Once she had the car going down the long, deserted avenue towards his apartment, she reached behind her to feel around in the back seat for something to dry Roy off with. Finding nothing, she pulled her arm back and frowned. After a long silence elapsed, she asked him, "What were you doing?"

At first, she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then his quiet, sullen voice drifted towards her. "I was trying to forget."

Riza didn't know what to say to that; she hadn't fully realized how hard Brigadier General Hughes' death had hit him. She let the silence return. But glancing over him and the shape he was in, she decided she wasn't letting him go home tonight. She was bringing him to her house so she could make sure he didn't do something stupid. She still remembered the incident in Ishval all too well.

Colonel Mustang didn't even seem to notice that Riza hadn't taken him home; she wasn't sure how much had gotten through to his head in the last half hour at all. With a heavy sigh, she helped him through the door and led him to her couch. She hadn't really thought this through; she didn't have a guest bedroom for him to stay in. She would have to apologize in the morning when he had sobered up.

Turning around, Riza set her coat on the hook next to the door, taking her housekey out of her pants pocket and transferring it to her jacket. Roy, already on the couch, stared at her.

After taking a minute to get settled in, she finally noticed the Colonel's intense gaze trained on her. "What?" she asked uncomfortably.

He was silent for a while. Just as Riza looked as though she'd given up and started to move towards her bedroom, he spoke.

"One of the most common phrases I've heard to describe us is 'dogs of the military,' but I've never really understood why."

She stopped where she stood, confused. "Sir?" Was she in for a drunken ramble? She sighed, already knowing she'd stick around to hear him.

"Dogs are some of the most loyal creatures on earth. They are something to be looked at fondly, not used as derogatory slang. Personally, I think one of the best qualities a human could have is loyalty." He sat up slowly and faced her. "You've always been there for me, Riza. And I haven't ever thanked you for it."

"Sir…"

"Don't 'sir' me. Say my name, Riza."

She shook her head. "Colonel Mustang, you've been drinking."

His eyes watered, and he averted his gaze so she couldn't see. Maybe he had been. Damned if he wasn't justified in doing so. Damned if he didn't mean what he was trying to say. "Will you sit?"

Riza cast him an apprehensive glance, mulled it over, then nodded and sat on the opposite end of the couch. "Look, sir, I know how rough it's been for you… losing Brigadier General Hughes… but you can't do this to yourself. Drinking yourself unconscious and burying your pain in your work are not appropriate ways to handle grief," she told him softly.

Roy laughed humorlessly. "Then tell me, O wise Riza, what _would_ be an appropriate way to handle my best friend's death?"

"Why don't you start by talking? Trusting people around you to help you through this? You aren't the only one who misses him," she retorted. Roy thought for a second that he saw a tear forming in her eye, but that wasn't possible. This was Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, tough as nails.

"And who exactly do I turn to? I have no family, no friends outside of work - "

"You have me, sir, unless you don't find a woman's help worth anything if it doesn't come as a distraction in bed."

Roy fell speechless. What was she insinuating? That he slept around? That he used women as toys, as objects that could be disposed of when he got tired of them? Well, maybe it was true… but she had no right to say so.

Riza's eyes widened as she seemed to realize she'd stepped out of line and quickly backpedaled. "I'm so sorry, sir, forgive me, I didn't mean that. It's just - "

"Just what?" he asked in an accusatory tone.

Unless his slightly intoxicated vision was deceiving him, her cheeks were turning pink. "Nothing, sir." She stood up. "I think I had best be going to bed. I'm just making this harder for you, and I swore to protect you." She stood up and quickly began moving towards the hallway.

Without any real conscious decision on his part, Roy found himself standing up and wrapping Riza in his arms, holding her as tightly against him as he could, burying his face in her hair. Riza stood frozen, shocked at her superior's actions. He'd never so much as touched her on purpose before; now he was gripping her like he'd fall apart without her there to hold him up. Roy couldn't recall deciding to do this, but all he knew was that he needed her right now. He needed her not to leave him. God knew how alone he was.

Eventually, she stopped fighting it. Her arms wound themselves around his waist, returning his embrace for all it was worth.

"You protect me in more ways than you'll ever know. I can't thank you enough for always being by my side," he mumbled, his voice muffled by her hair.

Somehow, she still managed to hear him. She looked up into his eyes, bloodshot from the alcohol and from his tears. "You don't have to thank me, Roy. I've always known you were a man worth following."

Riza felt him tremble. "I miss him, Riza," he whispered.

She hugged him tighter. "I miss him too, Roy."

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**A/N: **Hope you enjoyed! Sorry if my comprehensiveness of the state of being drunk is a little lacking, but I don't drink. I have a part II to this that I'll post if I get enough feedback! *coughcoughREVIEWcough* :)


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** All recognizable material belongs to Funimation/ Aniplex. I take no credit and make no profit from the use of these characters, events, or setting.

* * *

Riza woke with her head resting on Mustang's chest and his arms still loosely draped around her. She felt his chest rise and fall with each deep, steady breath, meaning he was still fast asleep. Oddly, despite her lack of approval for alcohol, she felt a dim sense of gratitude that he had gone drinking the night before. She knew he would never have let her see him like that sober.

The lieutenant glanced around her as she began to really wake up, and she realized that they were still on her couch. The clock on the wall read a few minutes past 7 am. Riza thought for a second that they had work that day before realizing it was Sunday. That didn't matter, though. She stuck to her schedule like glue, workday or not. 7 am meant time to get up.

Carefully, trying her best not to jostle him, she extricated herself from Mustang's arms and swung her legs over his, pulling herself away from him and his scent and his warmth. She felt the urge to lie down again and stay there, and her immediate response to that was hoisting herself up and away from him as quickly as she could.

Riza had covered Mustang with a blanket, showered, dried her hair, dressed, walked Black Hayate, run two errands, and come home to start doing housework by the time the Colonel finally woke up, complaining about a hangover from hell. She quietly soaked a washcloth in cold water and handed it to him, gently instructing him to put it on his forehead. He looked at the cloth in her hand questioningly for a long moment before shrugging and doing as she said. Unscrewing a bottle of pain reliever that she had picked up for him that morning, she handed him three tablets and a glass of water. "Take these, sir. It'll dull the ache," she told him softly.

He took the tablets silently and swallowed them down, wincing slightly as he did so. After the pills went down, he finally seemed to notice where he was. "Why am I in your apartment, Lieutenant? And what happened last night?" He couldn't remember much beyond leaving his office. He quickly checked himself to make sure he was clothed, then mentally smacked himself. Like strict, formal Riza Hawkeye would have taken him to her apartment for that kind of behavior.

Riza straightened. "You went drinking last night, and I took you here because you appeared to be incapable of using your own legs." She avoided mentioning his emotional floodgates opening up or their subsequent inappropriate couch snuggle. "I wanted to keep watch on you, sir. You were very intoxicated and I had to make sure you were going to be all right."

He stared at her. "I doubt the amount I drank would have killed me, Hawkeye."

"No, but the reason you drank might have."

Mustang looked taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

She took a deep breath, apprehensive. "With all due respect, may I ask you something?" At his hesitant nod, she continued, "How much guilt are you harboring over Brigadier General Hughes' death?"

His eyes tightened, and he looked away, not answering her.

Riza nodded. "That's what I thought. Forgive me, Colonel, but I was worried…" she shook her head, barely able to finish the thought. "I was worried you would relapse… I thought you might repeat the mistake you nearly made in Ishval."

It took a moment to grasp the meaning of her words, but when it sank in, Mustang's head snapped up. "What?" He stood up, swaying slightly but retaining his appalled expression.

The lieutenant could feel her throat tightening up. "I'm sorry, but I was so worried you would try to take your life again. I-"

"I'm past that! I've learned from my mistake, and I will live to become Fuhrer. I'm disappointed you think so little of me, Hawkeye. I'm not that weak." His glare emanated vibes of anger, something he hadn't ever really felt for his subordinate. It scared Riza.

Nearly shaking, she responded, "I was doing my duty to you, sir. I was trying to protect you. I needed to make sure that you _could_ live to be Fuhrer one day. Trust me, no one wants that for you more than I do."

Roy shook his head, shoving past her and stumbling his way past her to get to the door, intent on getting the hell out of her apartment. It almost would've better if she _had _dragged him here for sex, as inappropriate as it would have been. This was crossing too many lines for Roy. He was terrified to admit it, but he really had been inching closer and closer to a breaking point since Hughes had died. He'd been suffering through an intense bout of depression, but he'd thought he'd kept it hidden fairly well. It unnerved him to see how effortlessly his Lieutenant had been able to see through his walls. He slammed her door behind him, tripping over the concrete outside and barely catching himself on the rail.

Hawkeye must have heard him fall, because not two seconds later her front door was swinging open and her arms were around him, helping him stand. "At least let me drive you home."

Roy grumbled about it under his breath but supposed he had no choice. He wouldn't get halfway there on his own, and they both knew it. He let her lug him to her car, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

Riza got behind the wheel and headed north, saying nothing and yet conveying everything through her silence. He knew he had upset her, though she would be the last to say so. She was dedicated enough to him that she wouldn't let this get between them and their mutual goal of accelerating his rank to Fuhrer. She would be there for him no matter what personal issues he created. Suddenly he felt a pang of guilt. _Shitty way to treat the one person who would die for you in an instant, especially when I don't deserve it,_ he thought sullenly.

Usually Roy was pretty good with words; he wasn't awkward, he didn't stutter, he wasn't ever at a loss for what to say. But words failed him here. He could blame it on his hangover (which was still killing him, though he didn't let it show), but in all truth it was just that there was so much to say to her that he didn't think he'd ever have the time tell her everything.

When Riza pulled up to his front door, she looked away, expecting him to get out without a word. Instead he stayed put, taking a second to collect his thoughts. Where to even begin?

After an elapsed silence, Riza sighed. "Goodbye, sir," she said quietly, still under the impression he was just going to leave.

"I'm sorry." After his inner monologue, his planned-out speech, his intended confessions, this was all that managed to come out of his mouth. Two measly, overused, insufficient words.

"Don't be sorry for my presumptuous mistake, sir."

"I _am_ sorry. You were right to do what you did last night, Hawkeye. I don't know how you managed so see through me so easily, but…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Thank you."

Riza looked up at him warily. "You're welcome."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm glad I didn't pull the trigger in Ishval." He gave her a small smile in hopes that he could reassure her somewhat.

Riza tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white, biting her lip and closing her eyes. Roy saw her tremble, and instantly worried that he said something wrong. "What's wrong, Lieutenant?"

Hawkeye had to take a moment to try to compose herself before responding. "Don't talk about Ishval anymore. Please. I can't even imagine…" she sucked in a shaky breath. "My life, in essence, revolves around you now, Colonel. _I wouldn't have let you_ pull the trigger."

"We hardly even knew each other then-"

"I don't give a damn, Roy! I would _not_ have let you kill yourself! You're too important to the military… you're too important to me," she finished with a whisper. She felt herself tear up at the thought of losing him. When it came down to it, he and Black Hayate were really all she had in the world.

Roy Mustang was stunned into silence. He had never heard her address him so informally. Ever. And suddenly he realized how much he had been longing for her to allow herself to be so personal with him.

Her words implied feelings he had been ignoring for a very long time; he had never been sure if she returned them. On impulse, he took her hand and pried her fingers off the wheel, simply holding her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Riza looked at him again, her eyes widening a little, then turned her head to look out her window.

"I won't leave you, Riza," he promised her gently, simultaneously promising himself to try to make peace with Hughes' death and stop living like he was the dead one. Maes wouldn't have wanted him to live like this. He would have wanted him to keep moving forward.

When Riza didn't respond, he took her chin and made her face him. "I promise you I'll never do that to you." He saw her eyes shine in what looked like oncoming tears, and he brushed a loose strand of hair away from them. Their eyes locked, and he felt himself leaning in towards her.

He knew it was wrong. He knew that he was her superior, he knew that it was an inappropriate time even disregarding their ranks, he knew that there was a good possibility he was misreading her actions. But it seemed that his brain had been demoted and his heart was now in charge.

Riza turned away from him at the last second, her face turning a light shade of red, feeling extremely grateful that she had had the sense to keep her mouth shut about what had happened between them the night before. Roy sighed and kissed her cheek lightly, squeezing her hand a second time before letting it go and sliding away from her.

"Goodbye, sir. I'll see you tomorrow," Hawkeye said in a tight voice.

"Goodbye, Lieutenant," Mustang replied in the same tone, opening the door and stepping out. Riza put the car in gear as soon as the door clicked shut, driving off without another glance at him. If Roy hadn't been watching her so carefully, he would have missed the smallest of smiles that graced her lips as she sped away.

_One day, Hughes_, he thought with a sigh. _One day I'll make her my wife. And then you can stop teasing me._

* * *

**FIN**


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